


A Poke In The Right Direction

by APerfectGrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sex, F/M, Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:23:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APerfectGrace/pseuds/APerfectGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spooning with Castiel can only lead to one thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the imagine: http://dirtysupernaturalimagines.tumblr.com/post/101637950113/imagine-spooning-cas-because-he-cant-sleep-but
> 
> A sort of celebratory fic - it's been a year since I got into Supernatural. So have some smut.
> 
> Dom!Cas, cause I love me Dom!Cas.

_Thud_.

A small sound seeped into your foggy brain, making you shift a little. Your eyes lifted ever so slightly at the noise, before sliding shut once more, sleep curling thickly around the edges of your consciousness.

 _Thud. Thud. Thud thud thud_.

Once more.

_Thud. Thud thud. Thud._

Its persistence perforated your mind fully, shaking away the dusty webs of drowsiness, and as the sight and colour returned to your heavy-lidded eyes it took you a moment to realise that the sound was coming from somewhere outside of your world of comfort.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn.

Casting a glance over to the clock on your bedside table revealed that it was 2:13 in the morning.

The noise was coming from behind your headboard. More specifically, the noise was coming from somewhere behind you, in a room further down the corridor. The bunker’s spacious rooms and cavernous hallways made sound easily resonate through the air, so much so that you managed to hear the smallest noises even with your door closed.

You were curious yet unafraid; the bunker was well-protected, so it was highly unlikely to be any supernatural being of any sort.

There was more of a chance that it was one of the other inhabitants of the bunker, though that was a little surprising given that you had been the last one to bed.

Not that unexpected though; Dean Winchester was known to get hungry in the middle of the night.

You stretched, throwing the covers off of you and rising out of bed, padding across your room. You reached your door and gently prised it open, the noises rising ever so slightly in volume as you stepped into the hallway.

You closed your door (it kept the icy drafts out) and stood still, cocking your head to the side and waiting until you heard–

It was coming from the left door three doors down from your bedroom.

That was Castiel’s room.

You inhaled sharply without meaning to.

_What is he doing?_

Well, you were up now, so no point in beating about the bush. You would just go in there, find out what was going on, and then go back to bed. No fuss. Nothing to get worked up about.

You tiptoed across the cold, stony floor, rubbing your arms in an effort to warm your cooling skin. You didn’t think to grab a cardigan, and the air was giving you gooseflesh.

The polished, wooden door of Castiel’s room loomed into your view. From this point the sounds were louder, more defined, and accompanied by what seemed to be sighs of frustration.

Concern curled into your curiosity; you wondered if there was something wrong with him.

“Cas?” You gently rapped your knuckles on the door, so as not to startle him.

A small grunt of surprise came from the other side, and the thudding ceased immediately. You could hear the rustle of fabric and the sharp click of the lock before the door opened, replaced with vivid, blue eyes.

_Oh, sweet merciful Jesus._

Castiel was standing in front of you.

In boxers.

And an open dressing gown.

You coughed awkwardly, averting your eyes to the ceiling as a flush bloomed across your face.

It was no secret that you harboured some serious feelings for the fallen angel, but he didn’t make it bloody easy on you. Sometimes you wished you could dump a plastic bag over him; it would make your life a lot easier. You slowly lowered your eyes back to meet his, which were looking at you in interest. His gaze dropped to take in your shorts and tank top, pausing momentarily at the base of your throat before gliding back up to meet your blushing face.

“_____,” he murmured, in a low voice that hit you right in your centre, “is something wrong?”

“Hey, Cas.” The lump in your throat forced his name out on a croak. “No, no, I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Do you need something?”

 _For you to take off the dressing gown would be a start,_ you thought fervidly, but decided that that was probably an unwise thing to say. It would open a whole can of worms and you didn’t think you could sit here and explain to Castiel that his vessel’s body was seven kinds of sexy and whether he would mind if you could write your name into his skin with your tongue.

“Y-Yeah, well, I’m here for you a-actually,” you said, stammering whilst trying to rid yourself of those thoughts. You were here for Castiel, remember?

“For me?” he frowned slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“There are weird noises coming from your room. I just wanted to check to see if you were okay.”

All of a sudden, he looked extremely abashed, and his frown deepened. “I woke you up.”

“Well, uh, yeah, but I mean it’s not really a problem, I just wondered–”

“I am deeply sorry, _____,” he said contritely, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I am bouncing a tennis ball,” he clarified patiently. “Sam says it’s a form of stress relief. I had no idea that it would be so loud, I apologise.”

“It’s fine. Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I am having trouble sleeping,” he explained quietly, and you felt a pang of sympathy as you took in the taut line of his mouth, the dark circles under his eyes, the tense way he held himself, and the unruly hair that looked like agitated fingers had been run through it.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely.

“It is not your fault that I cannot sleep,” he said, with a tint of amusement.

You coloured a little. “Have you tried taking a sleeping pill?”

“They have proven to be ineffective,” he groused, running his fingers through his hair.

You pressed your legs together ever so slightly at the action, trying not to dwell on how it made his dressing gown open further, or how it made your stomach glow with heat. “Warm milk?”

“Also ineffective.”

“Counting sheep?”

He looked at you seriously. “I fail to see how counting imaginary animals would help me sleep, _____.”

You grinned in response, before pursing your lip in thought. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About the sheep?”

“About you being unable to sleep.”

Castiel’s eyes suddenly shielded over, and the corners of his mouth tipped down a fraction. “I… would rather not, if you don’t mind. It’s not something I wish to discuss at this present moment.”

“I’m sorry,” you said candidly, wanting to kiss that melancholy expression off of his face. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You weren’t, I just–”

“Cas, s’fine.” You waved him off, smiling. “Really. It’s your business, not mine.”

He ran his slender fingers down the smooth surface of the doorframe, nodding at you in appreciation.

“Just… keep it down, okay?”

“I will. I do apologise, _____. I did not mean to wake you.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

Without realising what you were doing, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He froze against you for a fraction of second, before winding his own arms around the curve of your back and leaning into the embrace, making goosebumps break out across your bare skin.

“Try to get some sleep, Cas. If you need me I’m just down–”

“Stay,” he croaked, turning his head into the crook of your neck.

 _What?_ “What?”

His arms suddenly tightened around you desperately, and he let out a shuddering breath that fanned across your shoulders, making you shiver inwardly. “Stay with me. Please.”

You frowned, worried. “Cas? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t – the nightmares are… they just – please, _____. Stay.”

You lifted your head away from his shoulder to look up at him, your heart immediately breaking at the horrible, pain-etched, weary look on his face.

You knew about nightmares.

You knew what it was like to be in the dark with nothing but your own mind and memories. You forgot that, before he fell, Castiel didn’t dream. It never occurred to you that it must have been terrifying for him.

“Okay,” you replied, seeing relief break across his features as he squeezed you tightly.

You faintly wondered what had him so scared as he pulled you into his room and closed the door.

* * *

An hour later, you found yourself laying in Castiel’s bed, your hair fanned around you, his face against the bone of your shoulder and his body melded against your back.

It was all you could do not to roll over and have at him, but you forcibly reminded yourself that, right now, Castiel needed an emotional crutch, not a physical one (woe).

You could never forget the heart-breaking look on his face when he asked you to stay. That was etched in your mind forever.

So, you did what you used to do with your little sister after she used to have nightmares: you’d cuddle with her until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed and she fell back into a dreamless sleep. Sometimes, you’d end up falling asleep with her and your parents would find you both the next morning, in a tangle of sheets and limbs and hair.

You rubbed your nose in distress, pushing those memories as far away as you could.

That was a long time ago.

Still, you thought the same idea could generally apply here with Castiel, especially since human contact seemed to calm him down greatly. He still didn’t want to talk about it, so you had crawled into bed and kept close proximity to him, thankful that it seemed to ease his stress.

Plus, there was no denying that you were getting a little something out of it too.

You were in bed. With _Castiel_.

The warmth emanating from his body seared through your own, and an ache was growing in between your legs at the strong arm wrapped around your stomach.

Castiel didn’t know the ins and outs of appropriate body contact, he didn’t realise that this position could be misconstrued to any who walked in on you right now, but for some reason you couldn’t care less. You would just drift off to sleep, wake up in the morning and deposit the memory of his body against yours into your spank bank permanently. Although, there was no way in hell that you were falling asleep any time soon, not with _that_ body tucked up against you.

Good Lord, did he choose wisely with his vessel. How Jimmy Novak’s wife ever let him leave the bed was a complete mystery to you.

“_____.” Your eyes drifted closed with pleasure at the rumbling way in which Castiel spoke your name.

“Yes?”

He shifted a little, and his hand squeezed your hip gently. “Thank you. For staying with me.”

You turn your head to look at him, heart leaping at those soft, blue eyes staring back at you. “It’s perfectly alright, Cas. I know that having someone with you can be comforting.”

“Comforting.” He thoughtfully repeated the word to himself. “Yes, very much so. Your presence is undoubtedly soothing.”

“I’m glad.”

“My mind is not as restless as before.”

“That’s good. Try to sleep a little, Cas. You look tired.”

As if on cue, you felt a small rush of air as he yawned against your arm. “I feel tired.”

“Sleep.”

He shifted, inadvertently snuggling closer to you, and you had a moment of _oh dear Lord_ before you coughed and cast your eyes on the ceiling, your thoughts whirling around in your head.

_Angel on you. Fallen angel. Sexy angel. With a sexy body. Shut up. Stop that. He’s in boxers. Heaven, help me._

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

You had no idea when you had fallen asleep but you had, because you awoke on your side, with your hands tucked under your head and on your stomach, Castiel’s body spooning you from behind, and a tight pressure somewhere below your ribcage.

A grunt, then a soft hiss, pulled you further out of sleep.

Castiel’s fingers were flexing against the bow of your hip, and his body was so tightly slotted against your own that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began. You felt like you were going to drown from the intense heat coming off of his skin. You couldn’t help but shiver at the feel of hot, hard muscle rubbing against your back as you –

_Wait a minute._

The last dregs of sleepiness fell away, conscious enveloping you fully.

You suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that Castiel was grinding himself against the curve of your ass.

And he was _hard_.

He breathed around a moan, canting his hips up against cleft of your clothed butt.

Castiel was hard.

He was as hard as a fucking _rock_.

And he was _rubbing himself_ against you.

Holy fucking _shit_.

Okay, okay, okay you had to breathe, _breathe,_ breathe _normally_ damn it because this was like the start of every single fucking fantasy you had _ever_ had about Castiel (and you had a _lot_ of them) and if you started to mentally process whatever the hell was happening here right now you were going to freak the fuck _out_.

Was he asleep?

Was he dreaming about something (or some _one_?) and he was acting out his dream?

“Fuck,” he whispered savagely, his breath ghosting against the back of your neck as his straining hardness pushed against you, making liquid heat rush right between your legs.

Nope. Definitely _not_ asleep.

Oh _god._

He made a noise of pleasure, drawing out a long, slow thrust that had every nerve in your body tingling.

“ _Cas_ ,” you unexpectedly groaned aloud.

He went rigid, every muscle freezing at the sound of your voice.

“Cas?” you called out tentatively, peeking over your shoulder.

The realisation of what he had been doing to you dawned on his face, before mortification and horror clouded his features and he _leapt_ away from you with an inhumane noise, stuttering and reddening darkly.

“_____, I… I’m so, _so_ sorry,” he moaned in a strangled tone, shaking violently and staring at you with wide, petrified eyes. “I don’t know what came over me, I… I was stressed and you calmed me, I just – you are a very beautiful woman – I accidentally… I became… I was against you and it felt so _good_ that I just… I just…”

You had rolled over to gaze at him, silent, but your heart jumped when he called you beautiful, and a small smile worked at the corner of your lips as you watched him sputter wildly. He trailed off, too humiliated to talk further; meanwhile your eyes had travelled downwards to the impressive bulge straining against his boxers.

 _Mazel tov_ , you thought briefly, licking your lips unconsciously.

He followed the direction of your gaze, looking down and letting out an agonising groan at the sight of himself. He pressed a palm against his groin in an attempt to ease the pressure, causing his breath to hitch involuntarily.

 _Holy shit._ You clamped your thighs together firmly, feeling your dampness rapidly growing at the unbelievably hot-as-fuck sight of Castiel all open-mouthed and heavy-lidded whilst cupping himself.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, breathing hard. “This body confuses me. It reacts to… I was–”

“Cas,” you said calmly, breaking your silence. He stopped talking instantly. “Get back over here.”

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop apologising and get back over here,” you repeated, growing bolder with every passing moment.

You had just been a part of the most arousing moment of your entire life, a moment involving _Castiel_ , and he was apologising? Was he actually kidding?

Hesitantly, he slowly moved back over to you, fearful and wanting to curl up and die with shame.

As he closed the distance between you two, he licked his lips nervously, and the motion had your mind shutting down as you imagined just what he could do with that tongue.

He was barely a foot away before you curled your hands around the lapels of his dressing gown, hauled him towards you and kissed him furiously.

To say he was astonished was an understatement. His mouth dropped open in surprise, granting you access to it, and take advantage of it you did.

Your lips slanted across his own perfectly, and you couldn’t help but groan against his mouth as you licked experimentally, sucking his bottom lip in between your own and softly tugging with your teeth.

It was like a shot.

His arms were around you before you could blink and he was suddenly kissing you back every bit as passionately as you were kissing him. Your hands were fisting his hair and he was palming your thigh, bringing it up and wrapping it around his hip. All the while he kept on kissing you, grounding himself against you and your mouth, the sound of smacking lips filling your ears.

“I… I don’t… what’s going…” he said in harsh pants, making only half-sense.

“I know,” you replied, not knowing.

“_____,” he grumbled against your mouth, running his hands up and down your back.

“Yeah?”

He tipped his head down, an open-mouthed kiss running down the length of your neck that left you quivering in his arms. “I am confused.”

“Do you know where this is heading?” you whispered against his mouth, dropping to kiss his jaw.

“Yes,” he moaned, as you ran your tongue along the line of it.

“Do you want it?” He tipped his head back as you lowered your mouth to suck hard against his pulse.

“ _Yes_.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

A pause. Then: “No.”

“Well, then.”

“Do _you_ want to stop?” he asked you, biting his lip as your teeth grazed against his throat.

“ _Hell_ no.”

You had no idea where this bout of confidence had come from, but you thanked the heavens for it as he panted against your mouth and tightened his hold on you.

You didn’t want to think about the implications of this in the morning, you didn’t want to question what was happening; the only thing you wanted to do was to have Castiel. It seemed that he more than reciprocated those feelings, as he began to do what had started all of this in the first place: he began to grind against you, groaning at the delicious friction.

“Tell me what you want, Cas.”

“I want… I want…” He suddenly looked up at you, and you had to bite back a groan as he stared at you with a dark, lustful expression. “I want to come against your ass.”

“Whoa,” you exhaled fervently, a little shocked and a _lot_ turned on with that small display of dominance. “Have you been listening to Dean or something?”

“No.”

That wasn’t what you expected him to say. Like _ever_. You didn’t even know that ex-angels could want that kind of thing, or even knew what it was.

“I want to grind against you, like before, and I want to come against you. I want you to feel the reality of what you’re doing to me,” he rasped, looking at you intently.

To hear him talk like that, to hear him say something so dirty to you was such a turn on that a fresh pulse of wetness soaked through your core, slicking your underwear.

Where the hell did he learn to talk like that? Was this the same Castiel from two minutes ago?

You could do nothing but mutely nod at him, having never wanted anything more in your entire _life_.

“Turn around,” he said hoarsely.

Instead of allowing you to do so yourself, his dexterous hands deftly spun you to face the other way, away from him, almost as if you were a ball he was simply rolling across the table. He was now spooning against you like he had been earlier. His strong arm snaked around your waist and pulled you forcefully against him, taking care to let a leisurely thrust of his hips roll against your skin, making you whimper with need. He hooked a leg over yours and splayed his hand possessively across your stomach, grinding harshly against your ass.

Hot, feverish lips found purchase behind your ear, kissing heatedly, leaving little nips along the fleshy lobe. His name left your lips against a sigh.

“Pull your underwear down,” he commanded, unhooking himself from you and tracing a finger across the elastic band of your shorts so as to emphasise his point.

Your hands scrambled downwards, practically ripping the bottom half of your clothes off in a haste to rid yourself of them. Castiel pulled away from you, and you heard the whisper of fabric for a split second before hot skin reappeared against your back, and you couldn’t help the loud moan escape you because Castiel was now _naked_ against you, fully, fully naked in all his naked glory, oh _god_ –

You inhaled sharply as his free hand roamed the cheeks of your ass, grunting in appreciation, before moving lower and lower to where you needed him –

“Cas!” you yelped as fingers stroked the outside of your sex, your hand flying up to grip his hair in an effort to ground yourself to him.

“So wet,” he growled against the line of your shoulder, tracing the line of your collarbone with his tongue, continuing with the ministrations against your core. “Females become wet as a result of arousal. Are you aroused, _____? Do I make you wet?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you gasped, tipping your head back as he pushed through your entrance, feeling your walls close instinctively around him. “ _Castiel!_ ”

“I like the way you moan my name,” he muttered, moving his other hand from your stomach down to circle your clit.

You gasped at the contact, lifting your hips to meet his hand, your heightened state of arousal pushing you ever closer to sweet release.

“Cas…”

“Turn your head to me.”

You complied willingly, lips coming down to kiss and nibble and suck and nip at your mouth, all the while fingers stroking and circling and gently thrusting against your core, and the combination was so delightfully intense that you were pushed over the edge mere seconds later, clamping tightly around Castiel’s fingers as you came undone beneath his ministrations. You moaned shamelessly against his mouth, pleasure pulsing through every nerve of your body as his adept fingers worked you through the waves of your orgasm.

When your mind cleared from the haze of your climax, Castiel was leaving little butterfly kisses against your neck, and you groaned as he pulled his hands out from between your thighs, resettling on your hips, leaving trails of your wetness across your skin.

His thrusting against you, which had slowed down a little when he had begun to explore you, suddenly picked up pace again, and soon he was rutting hard against you, his straining cock slipping against the cleft of your ass, finding friction there.

He was grunting, locking his legs around yours to rub himself even harder against you. You fisted his hair in response, earning you a growl in response, and you bit your lip as his hips bucked quicker. His voice pitched higher as his body worked faster; he was almost there.

“You’re close,” you whispered, and he moved his forehead to rest gently against the back of your neck.

“Close,” he echoed around a groan, his breath ghosting in hot puffs at the base of your neck and making you shiver.

His thrusts were becoming erratic now, and you reached up to kiss him. He lifted his head and latched onto your lips hungrily, moaning into your mouth.

His grip on your hips suddenly tightened to a bruising point, his entire body stiffened and a cry of pleasure left his lips as he came hard against the curve of your ass, his body shuddering intensely as hot wetness seeped into the small of your back with every wave of his climax. His cock jerked and throbbed throughout, his kisses becoming uncoordinated as his release worked through him, and he held onto you all the while, keening and groaning your name against your mouth.

Panting and shaking with exertion, you could feel a heaviness seep into your limbs as a calm settled across the pair of you. Castiel’s grip relented ever so slightly as he cocked his head to look into your eyes.

“Was that… acceptable?” he asked, a little breathless.

“Cas, that was _unreal_.”

He blushed in spite of himself. “I… did not see this coming.”

“Neither did I,” you answered honestly, giggling at his choice of words.

“I enjoyed that.”

“Me too.”

You sat up, grimacing a little at the sticky mess covering your back, more than a little proud of it.

“Where are you going?” he queried, a faint alarm in his voice.

Your chest warmed at the fact that he didn’t want you to leave. “I need to clean myself, Cas. I’ll be back.”

You went and did so, returning minutes later to find Castiel cleaned and laying in the middle of the bed. At your return, he said nothing, but silently lifted the bedcovers, soft eyes boring into your own.

Smiling, you climbed in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww yeah, Cas is gettin' his freak onnn.

Of all the ways to wake up in the morning, being startled awake by the loud, blaring shout of Dean Winchester was definitely _not_ one of them.

You nearly collided with your headboard at the ear-splitting cry, eyes squeezed shut and head pounding in pain. Apparently, that did nothing to deter Dean, who was still screaming like a fucking banshee. Clamping your hands around your ears and rolling away from the noise, you yelled a few choice words at him, but he was _still_ going on.

“Dean,” you groaned, pulling your pillow over your head to drown him out. “Did you deliberately come over here to piss me off? Why the fuck aren’t you in your own room?”

“I was gonna ask you the same question!”

Before you had a chance to ask him just what the hell he meant by that, a low grumble came from somewhere on your left, and you heard a gruff voice say, “Dean, shut up. It’s seven-thirty in the morning, and I’m a second away from strangling you with my bare hands.”

 _Whoa_.

That was Castiel’s voice.

What in seven hells was _Castiel_ doing in your bed?

Then you remembered.

Hands, bed, hips, lips, _cock_ …

Oh. _Oh_. Shit. That had actually happened. You had had sex with –

You shot up, eyes blown wide, half-about to jump out of Castiel’s bed before you remembered that _you didn’t have any underwear on_ so you jerked to an abrupt stop, gripping the sheets tightly around your bottom half and shit, shit, _shit,_ you just wanted to curl up and _die_.

“Did you get lost on the way to the bathroom, ____?” Dean enquired, a small grin playing on his lips now that his original shock had subsided.

“Are you still here?” Castiel griped, cocooned so tightly in downy bed sheets that only the top of his head was visible.

“You’re damn right I’m still here!” he shot back arrogantly, folding his arms and planting his feet firmly against the floor, looking a right state with fluffed-up bed hair and rumpled bedclothes. “And I ain’t leavin’ till I find out everything!”

“Dean,” came the dangerous reply, “I may have pulled your ass out of hell, but _so help me_ , if you don’t leave in five seconds, _I will put you back in it._ ”

“What’s the matter, Cas? Didn’t sleep well last night?”

“No,” he snapped, missing the joke.

“_____ didn’t do it right then,” he teased.

“Hey, fuck you, Winchester!” you blustered agitatedly.

“You sayin’ that you did then?”

You flung a pillow at him in frustration, a strangled scream ripping from your throat. He ducked, narrowly missing getting hit in the eye and regrouping with renewed vigour.

“Letting out all the sexual frustration, ______?”

“ _Shut the fuck up!_ ”

“Touchy. Clearly Cas didn’t work out all your tension.”

“I can assure you, I am more than capable of working out any tensions _____ may have,” Castiel piped up sharply from under the bedding.

Your eyes widened comically. “Gee, _thanks_ Cas!”

Dean looked like all his birthdays had come at once. “Oh, _really?_ ”

You dropped your head in your hands, face flushing with embarrassment while Dean’s smile magnified to the intensity of the sun. Jesus Christ this couldn’t get _any_ worse –

“Sam! _Sammy!_ Get in here! You gotta come see this!”

For. Fucks. Sake.

“Be _quiet_ , Dean.”

“Dean!”

It was too late. Sam came running in seconds later, gun poised and ready to attack, looking around wildly for any immediate threats.

“Dean! What’s wr – uh…”

At the sight of you all bedraggled and Castiel wrapped up next to you, he halted, dropping his arm in confusion.

“Hey, guys,” he said, bewildered.

“Hello, Sam,” came the inaudible reply. You made an incomprehensible noise in his general direction by way of greeting.

“Looks like _____ and Castiel had a little fun last night,” Dean explained smugly.

You wanted to punch that stupid smirk right off of his face. “More than you’ve been getting lately, Winchester,” you quipped back acidly.

A muffled chuckle came from underneath the sheets.

Sam coughed to hide a laugh and Dean turned the shade of a beetroot, before gleefully batting back with, “ _Ha!_ So you admit it!”

“What… What are you doing in Cas’s bed, _____?” Sam asked gently, trying hard not to read too much into the situation.

“Making fucking origami!” Dean yelled exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in the air. “What do you think she’s doing here?”

“I think you’ve put two and two together and come up with five,” you looked up at him sarcastically.

“Two plus two equals four,” Castiel stated matter-of-factly. “This is basic mathematics.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and even you threw the ex-angel a withering glance. Not that he could see it…

“Are you sure? Because it looks pretty cosy to me,” Sam ignored Castiel, eyes dancing between you and him.

Dean smirked at you triumphantly.

“_____ is here because I was having trouble sleeping, and her presence soothed me,” Castiel explained patiently.

“I bet it did,” Dean snorted.

“Believe what you will,” you added, relief mixed with a little disappointment coursing through your veins at Castiel’s answer. Not that you wanted the boys to know what had happened last night… “It’s the truth.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Would you have preferred if I had called upon _you_ to soothe me, Dean?”

He grimaced at the thought. “No, thanks.”

“Well, then, you have your answer. Can I please go back to sleep, now?”

“Sure thing, Cas,” Sam answered sincerely, turning around, “C’mon, Dean.”

“What about _____?” he questioned shrewdly.

“_____ is going back to bed too.”

His grin widened. “With Cas?”

Sam sighed, reached out and grabbed his brother by the collar, dragging him out of the room with a yelp and shutting the door closed. You could hear them bickering, their voices fading away as you presumed that Sam had frogmarched Dean well away from Castiel’s room.

Speaking of which…

Your eyes settled on the tuft of dark hair on your left, a whirlwind of emotions running through you.

“Castiel?”

“Yes, _____?” he answered in that deep voice that went straight to between your legs.

“Do you really want to go back to sleep?”

“I do not mind,” he said after a moment. “I said that initially so that Dean would leave. He is exceptionally loud in the mornings.”

“You’re telling me,” you snorted.

“I actually slept better than I have in a long time. I think that that was down to your presence, _____. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” A small cough. “So, you’re not going back to sleep?”

A slow pause followed. “Was there something else that you had in mind?”

“Well, actually…” Your tone must have intrigued him, because he lifted his head out of his meringue-style sheets, regarding you with those ridiculously bright eyes. “I was hoping to have a repeat performance of last night.”

As if to punctuate your point, you moved the covers down a bit, giving him a view of your naked bottom half. His eyes widened a fraction, before clouding over with an emotion that darkened the blue of his eyes.

“_____,” he growled, and you felt yourself slicken the roughness of his tone.

“Yes?” you prompted, a little breathless. You decided to give tease him a little; you traced your fingertips across the jut of your hips, swirling around the outside of your thigh and down. You nearly squealed when a hot, heavy hand _clamped_ around your thigh and _yanked_ you towards Castiel, who then rolled on top of you, breathing hard.

A hand glided up to your face, fingertips tickling along the curve of your jaw as he gripped it gently and left hot, open-mouthed kisses along the soft length of skin underneath. You bit your lip and clutched at him, a small sigh of pleasure escaping your lips. He nudged your legs open so that he could settle himself comfortably in between, making you moan as you felt his full-on nakedness against you. He took his time, peppering your neck with kisses, softly thrusting against you in a teasing fashion.

“Last night you asked me to tell you what I wanted from you,” he spoke gravelly, rolling his hips in a languid motion against you, “You should ask the same from me.”

“Cas…” you moaned at the feel of his hardness against the mound of your sex.

“Ask,” he prompted lowly, moving up to lick your earlobe. “It will be yours.”

“Talk dirty to me,” you blurted out before you could think.

He let out a breathy laugh, before tugging your ear playfully. “As you wish.”

He moved to kiss you softly, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a groan that vibrated against your skin, making your skin prickle. “I’ve masturbated to the thought of you before.”

You gasped against his lips, hands flying up in response, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down above your head, sucking your top lip into his hot, hot mouth.

“You had been researching outside the bunker. It was a sunny day. You were wearing a yellow, summer dress.” He kissed you one final time and moved to lick your jaw, making you squirm in pleasure against the restraints of his hand. “Such a short dress. Didn’t leave much to my imagination.”

He let go of your hands and they moved to his solid shoulders without preamble, ghosting the hard muscles there as his hands splayed across the sides of your ribcage, heat seeping into your bones at the contact.

“The straps were so thin, and your hair was up. So much skin on show, I didn’t know where to look. All I wanted to do was take each strap–” His tongue made its way down to the straps of your top now, tracing each one and making your hips buck involuntarily upwards, “–pull them down–” with his teeth he removed them, leaving your shoulders bare, “–let your dress fall–” pulled your tank top completely off of you, leaving you as nude as he was, “–and have my way with you.”

His arm dug underneath your back to curl around your shoulder, keeping you flush against him, and he left harsh bites along the junction between your neck and collarbone, drawing the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucking hard.

“I had to leave the room because I was becoming so aroused at the thought of you, naked and wanting against me. I just wanted to bend you over the table and fuck you until you were moaning my name.”

Oh _god_.

“ _Cas_ ,” you breathed, gasping as he laved his tongue over your pulse point, barely-there thrusts against your pelvis.

“So, I ran to my room, locked the door, and fisted myself at thought of you. Couldn’t even get my pants off, just unzipped myself and stroked myself against the door, I needed you that much. I was so _hard_ for you, I _ached_ for you,” he whispered savagely, his free hand moving along your collarbone down to cup your breast, feeling your stiffened nipple under his hot skin and thumbing it slowly. “So many images floated through my mind: you on your knees for me, you bouncing on top of me, moaning my name like you were doing last night.”

“Fucking hell, Cas,” you groaned, feeling your arousal hot and wet between your thighs.

“How I moaned your name to myself, so hard in my own hand, when I wanted nothing more than to be inside you, loving every inch of your body. Unbeknownst to me, you had found something out and you’d gone to find Sam, and you proceeded to converse about it in the hallway, where three feet away I was pleasuring myself to you.”

He moved to softly suck your nipple into his mouth, flicking it lightly with the tip of his tongue, whilst his other hand let go of your shoulder and lavished attention onto your other nipple, tweaking tenderly. You felt his mouth curve into a smile as you bucked against him, swearing out aloud even as your back arched against him.

“I wonder what you would have done, had you known that, while you were talking to Sam, just behind you, behind a closed door, I had my hand down my underwear and thinking of you. Would you have run away?”

Gentle licks travelled down the underside of your breast, leaving it heavy and stimulated underneath his attention. He shifted, moving lower, and you spread your legs wider to accommodate him.

He laughed dirtily, the action not lost on him.

“I imagine not. I imagine that you would have opened those pretty legs for me the way you did just now.”

“ _Holy hell_ , _Cas_ ,” you said, panting, fisting his hair “where the hell did you learn to do this?”

He huffed a laugh against the centre of your breastbone, kissing slow and deep down the line of your stomach, his hands coming to rest on either side of your hips.

“Wanna know a secret?” you whispered boldly, hands clutching the pillow under your head. He grunted an affirmative. “ _That dress was for you_.”

He moaned against your skin, long and deep, shuddering at your words.

“_____,” he said fiercely, moving up to crash his lips against yours in a heated embrace. “I wish I’d known. I would have pulled you away from Sam so quickly…” He bit down on your lip, breath ghosting across your face. “ _If I had known_ , I would have pulled you into my room, shut the door, pushed your dress up and fucked you until you couldn’t stand.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” was all you managed to say, squeezing your thighs against him.

“Oh, yes,” he agreed, reining in his passion to continue his fevered journey down the length of your body. “I would have locked your legs around me, pushed you against the door and taken you where you stood, until you were trembling with pleasure, until the only thing you could do was to hold onto me and give yourself to me wholly, until my name was the only word to pass those sweet, sweet lips.”

Almost as if it was a command, you couldn’t help it: “ _Cas_.”

“That’s what finally pushed me over my edge,” he carried on, pausing to blow against the valley of your belly button, making you whimper, “the thought of you panting my name in my ear all hot and bothered, unable to keep on and coming undone around me… I came so hard at that that I had to bite the collar of my shirt to keep from crying out aloud.”

“Oh _god_ , Cas!” you let out a strangled cry, “I wish I’d known. I’ve wanted you forever.”

“How much do you want me?” he asked suddenly, dipping his tongue into your belly button, making you jerk.

“ _So much_.”

“Where do you want me?”

“ _Everywhere_.”

“Do you know where I want to be?”

You exhaled sharply as hands leant against your inner thighs, and his body weight shifted until his heated mouth was millimetres away from your wet, slick centre.

“ _Here_.”

You cried out loud as he gave you one long, firm lick against your slit, holding your hips down as you writhed against him. He eased into it: small, playful licks around your clit, butterfly kisses across the crease of your thighs, teasing swipes of his fingers, puffs of hot breath barely stimulating you where you needed him most.

And all through it you groaned his name like he had fantasised, hands wound tightly in his hair as he lavished his attention on you, leaving no inch untouched, your chest heaving from the amount of pleasure he was bestowing upon you.

You were beginning to feel the familiar aches in the base of your stomach when you felt two fingers circle your entrance, pushing in ever so slowly and making you twitch.

“Ah, Cas!”

“The thought that you are so aroused because of me is almost enough for me to come myself,” he growled, squeezing your thigh while the fingers inside you fucked you slowly, pulling pants and sighs out of you as easily as air. “I won’t come until you do, though. I want to feel you come. I want to watch you.”

Lips wrapped around the swollen bud of your clit and you cried out again as he began to softly suck, the tip of his tongue accentuating the unbelievable sensation, coupled with the delicious friction of his thrusting fingers.

It wasn’t long before you came, your back bowing spectacularly as he pushed you over the edge. His name left your lips over and over as you gripped onto his head for dear life whilst your orgasm rippled through you, your mind blanking out with the pleasure as he worked you through it. When your trembling had subsided, you looked down to find, with a thumping heart, that his gaze was locked on you, and that he was true to his word: he had been watching every moment of when you came undone above him.

Your sex gave a clench at the sight of your arousal shining across his mouth, and you couldn’t stop the moan as he licked his lips, savouring the taste of you and raising himself up so that he was kneeling in between your still-shaking legs. As if magnetised, your eyes swivelled to the leaking, straining erection between his legs, the tip beaded with precum.

“ _Watch me_ ,” he demanded in a baritone voice, one hand resting against your knee as the other travelled down to grip himself at the base of his cock.

You did so obediently, thighs tensing around him at the command. He groaned as he used the hand he had just been using on you, your wetness adding to the sensation as he ran his hand along the length of himself, twisting the tip with a delicate flick of his wrist.

His vocals turned breathy, his breath hitching as he pulled and jerked himself, mouth falling open and chest heaving. You could do nothing but watch, too sensitive from your orgasm to be close to another, but your body still reacting to the delicious sight of Castiel pleasuring himself over you.

“Aaaah, so _close_ …” His tongue came to rest at the centre of his top lip, and the hand resting on your knee relaxed and flexed in time with his movements.

His body began to tense as his movements accelerated, more erratic, pushing him closer and closer –

“Cas…”

His mouth dropped open and his eyes were tightly shut when he reached his limit, groaning your name as he came, shaking in violent pleasure. His cock jerked and twitched as hot, wet drops of his release spurted across your stomach with every thrust into his hand. He knelt heavily against your knee, breathing hard as the last few surges of his climax went through him. Eventually, his hand slowed to a stop, and he let go of himself with a small sound, his eyes heavy. He moved and leant down to softly brush his lips against yours, before he reached over for the tissues by his bedside table. He shifted back towards you, surprising you by gently cleaning your stomach for you, taking care to be tender in the aftershocks of your orgasm. Once down, he threw the mess away, before flopping down beside you, spent and every muscle singing with exertion.

“_____,” he panted softly into the pillow after a minute, “I hope you don’t mind, but I could use an extra couple of hours sleep right now.”

You laughed, letting out a yawn. “Of course I don’t mind, Cas. I feel the same.”

“Good.” A strong arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to snuggle against him, and you felt sleep coil around you as you nestled into his warm embrace.


End file.
